Comfortable being Alone
by TheWrter
Summary: "You know what this scar means. What I am. We might have been able to pretend in front of Ron that this is not what we think it is, but Ron is not here anymore." Harry and Hermione finally confront their situation after being abandoned by their best friend when they needed him the most.
1. Chapter 1: Stay with me

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, and everything attached to the franchise, belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros, and whoever else she sold the rights to. This is just for the fandom to keep it alive in our hearts and imaginations.

**Author's Note: ** This is my first story. It was supposed to be part of something bigger but I thought that it could also work as a short sweet story. I might add more snippets of how Harry/Hermione relationship could have deepened.

**Help Wanted**: I am just getting the hang out of fanfiction system to post so, if you have any comments or suggestions to get this better please write me TheWrter on Twitter. Also, I am flirting with accepting a challenge so if you want to promote your challenge send me a message.

**Comfortable being Alone**

Hermione woke up to the sound of quiet sobs, for an instant she thought they might have been hers. They had settled the tent too close to the lake and she could hear the lapping of the water on pebbles. The crying was so soft that it got lost from time to time among the waves. Her tears had dried a few hours ago, it was Harry who cried.

He was speaking in broken words through his dreams and his face shinned under the moon with trails of tears. The tent became silent as she sat, unsure if he would reject her if she went to him. Lately he pushed everyone and everything away in anger.

She had fallen asleep on the beaten couch where just a few nights ago Ron had been trying to coax her into playing a game of magical chess while she re-read the _Three Brother's Tale. _Her neck ached from sleeping in an uncomfortable position, her feet were cold and she could feel the dryness building in her throat after another night of hopelessly crying for the redhead to come back.

"Hermione...no...please…no...Ron" Harry spoke in a desperate voice. His nightmares were worsening with every day they spent in the wilderness. He denied it every time she asked but she couldn't believe his half smile and wavering eyes.

She got up slowly, never taking her eyes off of him. She searched his tense body to make sure this wasn't more than a nightmare. Suddenly, her sight landed on the cursed locket that had brought such unhappiness to her life. It wasn't just the locket, it was the war, her absent parents and Voldemort. It was always Voldemort in the end.

The moon was high above the silent forest but everything seemed a little too dark. The shadows swallowed every light. Even the thoughts in her mind had been obscured by the recent events. In the darkness, doubt sneaked into her thoughts and she felt hopeless. It had been naive to think three young students would be able to outsmart one of the most powerful evil wizards in history with a tent and a book of fairytales. Many things around Harry made her feel hopeless lately, but she tried to stay strong. In return, he tried to sulk less than he normally would. It made their lives bearable in the silence that Ron had left behind.

She had decided to wait for Ron in the same place, in case he returned. Harry had silently agreed, and had stayed away. His quiet anger gave her space to cry her heart out the second night the boy she loved failed to appear. The remaining parts of the trio had been swallowed by sadness and frustration, and there had been no time to speculate about where the Sword of Gryffindor might be. They were still taking turns on wearing the locket...but it got heavier each day.

Hermione made a beeline to Harry's cot, only guided by the moonlight. His eyes opened to catch her feminine body hovering over him, reminding him of another witch with wild hari and cruel eyes. Just as fast, his wand pointed straight to her heart. Time froze while their breathing pattern struggled to synchronize. The long time friends became strangers for an instant before his pupil's grew in recognition.

"Hermione?" She reached for his wand hand in response and his body relaxed. She hid her expression behind the mass of curls that obscured her face. Her distant atmosphere gave him an excuse to close his eyes to clear his head from the nightmare. They stayed like that for a moment, recognizing each other.

His hand was warm, but she wasn't sure if it was because of his nightmares or if he was ill. She didn't know, and that was a very strange and troubling feeling. She had not known many things since this fruitless hunt had started. Having worked for a reputation as a Know-It-All most of her life, not knowing things was an experience she didn't enjoy. Although, truthfully, there were many things that she didn't want to understand or to know about...but she would never say it. Her lower lip suffered the prolonged stillness between wizard and witch as her teeth sank into it.

He lowered his wand and threw it to the messy cot. She let her hand fall limp to her side. Harry opened his eyes slowly, they were shining, this time with relief. The hand that had abandoned his wand reached slowly for Hermione. His fingers barely touched her hair before he retreated. A dull green met her questioning gaze.

"Hermione? Is there something wrong?" His voice still sounded strained from the nightmares. She could tell that he was trying to create even more distance between them but it wasn't working. There was no one else left who could understand her pain.

"Is something…?" Her voice, usually clear, was barely a whisper. She left out a mirthless laugh. How things had changed between them, it was usually her who had to ask for him to talk. Now, there was nothing she could say. "No Harry, it's not just something, it's all of it…everything is wrong." The worry in Harry's face became more obvious as she fell silent. The witch couldn't help feeling guilty for deepening his frown. They were both very tired.

"You're crying." He whispered. She had not noticed but her face had become wet. Her hands jerkily removed her hair from her face and dried her tears. "Someone has to." Their eyes met, there was nothing else they could say without altering the careful balance constructed after years of living together as friends. After everything that had been broken with Ron, she walked on her tips. "I thought you were too angry to notice." She said, daring to express what she felt clearly.

Harry, still frowning, lilted his head in confussion and Hermione knew this had been probably a mistake. She was about to leave the side of his cot when the young wizard's fingers gently anchored her to the mattress before she had a chance to escape. Harry made space for her and gently coaxed her to lay in his arms. She was so tired and lonely that it only took a light touch for her to give in. As she settled into his embrace in the small bed, shyness and insecurity radiated from his body. Harry didn't know much about physical affection and she wasn't as familiar with being hugged as she was with hugging. They didn't match well in this position, but it was all they had.

It had been so long since she had received proper comfort that she wasn't even sure she knew how it felt to be hugged anymore. Ron had tried to awkwardly put his arm around her during Bill's wedding but it could hardly have been described as a hug. Her parents...she would rather not think about them.

A loud sob escaped her chest while Harry's cotton shirt was stained by her tears. She could feel his body tense under her cheek to contain his already strained control over his emotions. Harry had never been comforting, encouraging perhaps and sometimes understanding, but he had only once before awkwardly attempted to make her feel better… and with little success. His nightmare still swam near the surface of his conscience, screams of pain still rang on his ear, but he ignored them. Hermione needed him, and after everything, this was the least he could do. They had to hold on to each other because there was nobody else. If she died too...

She sighted and her body shifted a little closer to him. One of his hands had found a comfortable space on her lower back and another was cradling her head full of curls to his chest. Hermione had stopped crying while thinking about how her life had turned out different than what she had expected and how useless it all seemed now. At least, she wasn't alone in this madness. Everything would be alright if she could only keep both of her friends alive. Then, maybe, everything would be forgiven. She needed to do something, but...

"Harry, what are we doing here?" She murmured onto his shoulder before trying to look at his eyes. He let her disentangle her body from his and laid on his back. She looked directly at him while supporting her weight with a hand over his chest, half laying over him. He remained still under her gaze because he wasn't sure how to answer. He looked away, avoiding the question.

She observed her friend from above. He had become very thin in the last moths, which accentuated his features. His hair was messy and longer than what she considered proper. No. This wasn't _The-Boy-Who-Lived _that the Witch Weekly displayed as the most desirable bacheloror, the Hero that a stupid prophecy had named as a saviour, this was Harry, just Harry. Even if he sometimes became the hero everyone thought he was, he deserved more happiness in his life.

"Harry?" She insisted, and he turned to look at her with a sigh. He inspected her face, just as she was doing with him. She was worryingly thin and looked unhappy. Ron's departure had taken a toll on her and he couldn't help feeling guilty for being part of the reason why their friend left. A scary thought whispered to his ear the possibility of Hermione leaving him too. His fear escaped his mind as a question laced with bitterness. "Are you leaving me too?" Her brown eyes focused on his with disbelief. "No! Why would you think that?" His question had hurt her. "I don't care whatever pitiful story that cursed necklace has made you believe, I won't back down on my promise." She added in an firm voice.

His jaw was tightly set and he was trying his best not to look at her accusingly. Harry couldn't help the suspicion that rushed to drown him, so she pressed harder. "Honestly Harry! Why would I ever leave you after all we've been through? After all these years? After all I've given up? Am I not your friend?" It hurt that he would think of her like that. He always jumped into conclusions, and she was tired of it. They were both so worn out.

That last comment got to him because he never asked for any of this. Without warning he shook her off of him and left the cot in frustration. "Don't fuck with me Hermione. Don't fuck with me! You know I hate it when people lie. Don't lie to me!" The air around them was charged with magic. "Why would you stay when you have the opportunity to have a good life without me? How am I supposed to keep the people I care about safe if I'm the one killing them? Do you like being hurt? Is that it?! Why don't you go back to your boyfriend, and leave me alone! I never asked for any of this!" He was shouting now and she hated it.

This was post-Sirius Harry, as she began calling him privately after the summer Dumbledore had ordered her and Ron not tell Harry anything about the Order. "Do you think that any of us asked for this? You are not the only one who has suffered Harry!" She was not in the mood to deal with this Harry, who tended to be angry and paranoid, but mostly afraid. "I know this is not you, but the influence of that locket talking. You won't scare me into leaving." She said as calmly as she could.

He paused in front of her sitting form on the cot and looked at her directly on the eye, like a wild animal who had been cornered. "But I am scared Hermione. I am scared...some Gryffindor I am." His voice was softer and full of regret. "I don't want to be without you but I can't protect you just like I couldn't protect anyone who ever tried to help me. I don't have a plan, I never do. You are the most intelligent witch I know...you know that leaving me gives you a better chance to live. You are my friend, and because of that I ask you to leave. You will die if you stay." He was being serious.

She got up from the bed, and carefully took a step towards him. Hermione spoke firmly. "Leave? Harry, I would never be able to live without you, or Ron, or Hogwarts. You don't scare me." She repeated before reaching for his hands. He held his guard and avoided her touch. He was visibly frustrated. "You know that I will die before this is over. You know I must die if we want to defeat him. I have to die to end this. Merlin Hermione! Don't make me do this. Leave before I hurt you like I did Ron and his family." All of his anger was gone and resignation was the only thing left. He was in tears now and he lightning bolt scar seemed more alive than ever. It made him look younger. They were both so young.

"You know what this scar means. What I am. We might have been able to pretend in front of Ron that this is not what we think it is, but Ron is not here anymore." His green eyes were pleading, but she refused to acknowledge what he was saying. "No, Harry. We will find a way, I know we will." Hermione shook her head stubbornly but she was crying too. "There is no "we" Hermione, it's always been just me." He said, and the words stabbed her.

"How can you be so blind?! I might have been in danger many times but you never made me follow you. I chose it Harry! I chose you as I choose hope! I can't go back on my word!" She declared refusing to give into despair. He became angry once more. A frown appeared on his brow, his eyes flashed with something she didn't recognize. "I never asked you to choose me. I am not one of your charity projects or something you can add to your resume. I am not one of your elfs. I don't need you." It was an almost-believable statement but she saw the desperation in him despite the unwavering tone of his voice. She didn't move. Harry growled.

"I don't want you with me. You don't understand anything, you don't know how I feel." He said in frustration while pulling his dark locks. The positions where truly reversed now. He talked about feelings, while she shouted. "If you won't leave, I'll do it." He said with a stony voice, but she was not responding. His face became hard, and his eyes avoided looking at her before turning around, escaping from her confronting gaze. With matching stubbornness she followed him as he started to summon his belonging and shoving them into his school trunk.

She did not stop him from packing immediately. Hermione could believe that he didn't want her there with him but she knew that it wasn't his place to decide where she should be in this war. He was being unreasonable and he knew it. She wasn't giving in to his deluded ideas of continuing without her, Morgana knew she was not that kind of witch. With a flick of her wand she blocked the exit from the tent and settled an anti-apparition charm. She gave him an unimpressed look and placed her hands on her hips while waiting for him to notice there was no way to leave.

"What are you going to do without me? Run to You-Know-Who and hope for the best?" Her brown eyes were determined and it angered him that she would assume he was hopeless without her. What is worse, he hated to think that it was true in more ways that he cared to admit. All of this was too new, and their relationship had somehow shifted from their usual loyal companionship to something...problematic. They had never been so close, and still so far. He wondered what a "normal" friendship, without an evil wizard trying to kill you every year, would be like. With that fleeting thought he became even more determined to leave, but her magic wouldn't budge. He took a few strides toward the exit of the tent, ignoring her daring stance, until he realized he couldn't leave.

"Let me go...you stupid..._Mudblood_." He spat at her without thinking. A look of horror replaced his angry and stubborn mask in an instant. Both stood frozen in the dark tent. With the dim light of the moonlight he saw her hold her breath and tried to take it back before the shock settled between them. "No, Hermione… I didn't mean it." He left his trunk fall to the floor and tried to approach her.

The dry sound of a slap cut any apology that was about to leave his lips. The pale skin of his left cheek quickly became red. Her eyes were icy. "Don't you dare insult me ever again with that word Harry Potter. Not everything is about you or what you want. This is not only your fight. It is mine, Ron's, Neville's, and of any magical being who believes there is something more to hope for. We have all lost something, you are not the only one who is scared." All of her body language demanded his attention. Her shoulders were squared. Only the slight tremble of her lip (which she quickly stopped with a sharp bite) and her watery eyes betrayed the emotions bottled up inside her.

"My parents are gone Harry. Ron is gone. I have nothing left but this fight if I want a chance to get them back. You are my best friend and I can't lose you too. Don't make me do this on my own because, I promise you will regret it just like you will regret ever daring to call me a Mudblood." The atmosphere was thick. It was her way of giving him an ultimatum. Many times before she had been cast aside, and it was hard not to wonder if this would be one more of those times. With no warning, he rose his wand at her once more, and she glared at him.

"I don't want to do this either, but you don't know what you are asking for Hermione. You don't understand what it is like for me." His voice was almost cruel and she didn't know how to reach him. "Everyone is better off without me while he is out there. He won't be satisfied until I die and everyone that means anything to me is dead." She could see that he was serious, and it made her insecure. She had witnessed Harry being different levels of depressed or angry before, but never hopeless. He had never raised his wand as a weapon against her either, but he now did both. "Get away from me, or I'll make you." His wand hand trembled. He looked very much like a scared cat that had been cornered

She quickly rose her wand and disarmed him. "_Expelliarmus!"_ The angry witch succeeded at leaving the wizard unarmed, he was not focused. "Fine, if I don't understand then show me what it is like for you." She had had enough of this. "You don't get to treat me like I am a naive child who doesn't know what she is choosing, if you refuse to let me into your life to know what I am betting for." She wouldn't give him up this easily. Hermione had made him her friend, whether he wanted her or not, the night he had saved her life from the troll. Still, a tiny shard of rejection had graced her heart. "Show me how it is for you so you don't have to carry this burden alone." Fighting with Harry always hurt deeper than fighting with Ron did because he understood her better. While Ron insulted her, Harry ignored her and that hurt her the most. She wouldn't give in this time, he would listen. Slowly, she reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Please."

Harry remained quiet for what seemed like an eternity, until, to her surprise, he returned the gesture. His fingers interlaced with hers, before letting go. "Alright. Just promise me you won't die...I wouldn't be able to bare it." She was not satisfied, but accepted the new agreement by cradling his face in her hands and supporting her forehead on his. He leaned into her embrace and inhaled her scent. His arms came around her bringing her closer to his chest and she allowed it. "You know that is not what I meant Harry, you never share your feelings with Ron and I, not even with Ginny." He exhaled. "You don't either Hermione. I can tell something is wrong, but you never out right say it...and I...I'm not good at this." He spoke softly. Color rose to her face as she realized the truth behind his words, she barely talked about her life outside of Hogwarts and there were many things she had not shared with him and Ron. "If I've learned anything about this, about family, I learned it from you guys." It was hard to share with them when they barely had time for something else than survival. One of his hands softly caressed her curls while the other made small circles on her back. "I wish you stayed somewhere safe. Ron is right. I don't know what to do and I don't want you to die because of me." The Harry she had known since they were children, was still there somewhere. There was still hope that someday they'd be together and happy again. At least, that is what Hermione tried to tell herself. "Promise me that you'll survive, even if it is without me." The young wizard insisted, oblivious of her thoughts.

"Harry, nothing will happen to you." Hermione answered in a whisper. "Just, promise me. Please." He said with a strained voice. They were friends, and they were together, nothing else mattered at the moment, so she nodded. _"_Thank you." He said because there was nothing else he could say, even if he wanted to. They stayed silent for a while, holding each other, not even bothered by the cold that was slowly seeping into their bodies. Both were lost in their thoughts and thinking of the possibilities of what could have been and what would come. "Promise me that you won't leave me." She requested in a barely audible voice, feeling a bit childish for asking that of him when there were so many things on his shoulders already. He left out a frustrated sigh at her request. "Hermione I..." She gave him a stern look that admitted no discussion. "Alright, I promise."

Rain started to fall outside, marking the end of their quarrel. They slowly separated and looked around avoiding each other's eyes, feeling a bit awkward. There was something in him that had not been there before but she couldn't quite put a name to it. She wanted to think it was hope, but knew better. Harry had always been a mystery and tonight had proved that there were many things she still didn't know about him. His eyes focused on her for a moment before dropping to the floor. "I'm sorry Hermione. I'm sorry I called you...you know." She closed the distance between them and gently traced her fingers across his bruised cheek. His attention returned to her. "I'm sorry I hit you." He placed his hand over hers and nuzzled against its warmth, surprising them both. He let her go, while blushing deeply, and her hand fell limply to her side no knowing how to react.

"It's getting colder." She pointed out lamely. "It is." He agreed, suddenly feeling embarrassed because of the liberties he had taken with her. A weak smile painted her lips and he anxiously reached to fix his non-existent glasses; they were somewhere around his sleeping space. "Good night then." She said before bolting to her bed preventing the questions that had formed in her brain to pop out.

"Good night Hermione." He answered to the night wondering if he would be able to live a simpler life some day. The rain continued to fall, just like the day Ron left, but Hermione wasn't crying anymore and he felt a little bit more alive.


	2. Chapter 2:Leave it all behind

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, and everything attached to the franchise, belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros, and whoever else she sold the rights to. This is just for the fandom to keep it alive in our hearts and imaginations.

**Author's Note: **This is my first story. It has somehow spinned out of my control and turned into a (maybe) DH rewrite. My main focus is still the Harry/Hermione relationship but there will be much more. I am now 26 and looking at this young characters makes me wished they had more time to grow and heal their wounds better than they did in the last book and that trash that is the epilogue. I will try to give them a chance to heal, grow and fall in love.

**Chapter 2: Leave it all behind**

The rain had stopped, and the last rays of morning sunshine they would get this year graced the forest. Hermione woke first. The young witch dressed in warm clothes, tied her curls in a ponytail and made sure that Harry was still there. He slept soundly and it didn't escape her keen observation skills that he had fallen asleep watching the Marauder's Map while staring at Ginny's little dot. It made her feel sad for him, but at the same time a bit jealous because she had nothing to feed what little hope she held that her Weasley would be back. It couldn't be helped, their situations were different. Harry had decided to leave Ginny for her safety, while she had been abandoned by Ron because he...she wasn't even sure anymore.

Hermione looked around the tent they'd been cupped in for the last months. Nothing ever changed, they were running in circles. She needed some fresh air, otherwise her morose thoughts would take over her once more. Hermione decided to let Harry rest and take a walk along the lake's shore under the protection of the invisibility cloak. She hesitated before taking the evil locket with her, but after levitating it into her pocket to avoid touching it she took the heavy burden. It would do her friend good to be away from it for a while.

She left a brief note letting Harry know where she went, so that he wouldn't think she was gone too. After last night, it was clear that the communication between them needed to improve. He could do something rash otherwise.

Outside, the forest was beautiful. The water of the lake was clear and she could see fish swimming on the surface. Birds were chirping on the trees, while a cool breeze moved their leafs. Everything seemed peaceful, but, just like everything lately, it was only a temporary heaven. If Ron did not appear today, they would have to move and he wouldn't be able to find them. She wasn't sure if she wanted him back or not because she wasn't angry anymore. At this point she just felt disappointed and lonely.

The invisibility cloak covered all of her body, and impeded her from looking directly at everything around her, but she wanted to keep it on for extra protection. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, feeling frustrated that she couldn't even enjoy the nature around her because her mind searched snatchers everywhere.

A soft pop called her attention to the trees that surrounded the water. It seemed as if nothing had changed until two alarmingly familiar voices broke through the silence of the forest.

"Are you sure this is the place?" the younger voice asked.

"Quiet boy! If they notice us before we find them we might lose our chance and all will be for nothing." said the second voice with an audible sneer. "We should be near if Weasley's memory serves." It added.

Hermione applied a silencing charm on herself as quickly as she could and tried disapparating back to the campsite. She couldn't, a jinx had been placed.

"Why would they still be here? They are not that moronic. We are risking our lives for nothing." protested the first voice.

"I said quiet! They will be here. They have to be if they want to give Weasley a chance to find them again. Being as predictively sentimental as that pair is, I am sure they will be here waiting. Now hurry and don't make much noise. Have your wand ready." said the older voice.

The young witch didn't wait to hear more and ran as fast as she could.

As soon as she reached the safety of the wards that covered the tent, she took off the invisibility cloak and started to summon things into her beaded bag.

"Harry! We need to go now! Death Eaters are here! HARRY!" Harry woke up with a start, his hair was a mess and he seemed not at all ready to face any Death Eater. Thankfully he caught up with what she was saying and started to shrink the things he had packed the night before during their fight. She frantically tried to think of anything important that might reveal what they were trying to do. _The books! Oh, why did I bring so many! _She thought while trying to get every single book into her bag.

The tent shook, and Hermione felt her layer of wards crashing down. Panic took over, and she forgot all of her contingency plans. She couldn't leave any piece of information lying around. Everything would be for nothing if it got into the wrong hands. They shouldn't have waited for Ron for so long. It was too late now. If she stayed, perhaps they would think this was all just her. She would be able to manipulate the information and Harry would leave.

They had a few seconds left and Harry made the decision for her when he felt his last ward fall. "HERMIONE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW!" He took her by her middle and pulled her to him swiftly covering her under the invisibility cloak she had discarded earlier. He pulled her out of the tent with him. They had to get out of the anti-apparition charm's reach. Harry hoped that the charm wasn't that extense as he fired a few disarming spells to give them time to get into the forest. One of his spells was successful, but he kept attacking the other wizard to gain some distance between them. It seemed like there were only two of them.

Hermione's eyes glinted with an idea as she noticed that the two enemies were getting near. They had reached the edge of the forest, and she was sure there was no other way to protect the truth of their mission. While Harry fended off the Death Eaters coming their way she pointed her wand to the tent and set it on fire. "_Incendio_!" The flames embraced everything and took their enemies by surprise. They ducked to avoid the scorching flames, which gave Harry and Hermione the opportunity to run deeper into the forest. The witch and wizard were barely able to make it far enough before the two wizards caught up to them. Still underneath the invisibility cloak, Hermione noticed Harry offering his hand to her general direction. She took it, which would have seemed odd to the other wizards had they had time to notice the floating hand. A soft pop and the dizzying feeling of side-along apparition took her from the forest. The last thing she saw was a pair of black eyes lit by eagerness. A shadow had been watching them from the trees.

They apparated in the middle of an empty living room. Specks of dust danced through the light that entered through the spaces between the boards on the windows. It was a small abandoned suburban house. A crack and magic, disturbed the stillness of the uncannily normal place.

Both were holding their breath, waiting for somebody to barge in and attack them. The wizard was still holding the witch with one arm, while the other held his wand ready to fight. The witch was ready too. A minute of silence passed, and nothing happened. They were safe...for now.

When they realized nobody was coming, both collapsed into the hard floor, exhausted. "Harry...I'm sorry." Hermione said still in shock and partly covered by the invisibility cloak. Her eyes watered. "I burned all of our books. I burned them…" She hid her face behind her hands, ashamed of what she had done. She expected Harry to be mad at her because most of them had been precious books from the Black library. Sirius' library. Instead, she heard him chuckle and then laugh lightly.

"This is serious Harry!" She said exasperated, while turning sharply to look at him. His hair was tangled, and it was probably getting worse by the minute, but all she took notice of was how younger he looked when laughing. It had been so long since they had laughed so freely. She couldn't help it and joined him with a small chuckle.

"I'm sorry Hermione…" He replied between spurts of laughter. "But, only you would be worried about burned books when we almost got captured by Death Eaters. I don't want to laugh, but...haha." She smacked him lightly on the arm and playfully answered him. "Well, someone has to worry about the important things. You are already too focused on your saving lives thing, so I figured this was my duty." She purposefully used her best bookworm voice and they both laughed. "Honestly Harry. There were very valuable books there, and we lost almost all of our supplies. I didn't even pack my clothes." He smiled at her fondly. "I missed you." Her smile widened, she had missed her friend too.

She became serious once more, before noticing her friend squinting at her. He was still not wearing his glasses. "Harry! Your glasses!" He averted his eyes and pushed himself off the floor. She continued to reprimand him while looking around for her beaded bag that had flown somewhere when they apparated. "Having a duel without them could be deadly. Did you leave them behind? Harry you should be more careful." Harry just shrugged it off. "They broke when I stumbled out of bed so I put them in my pocket. Besides, I could see silhouettes approaching us. The black robes were hard to miss in plain daylight and their spells were not that fast." He said while offering her his hand for support. She took it and stood up.

Discreetly the witch casted a quick charm to take the dust off of her clothes and did the same for Harry. Hermione gave her friend a reproachful look but let the subject drop for now. "Show them to me, I'll repair them. There was someone else watching us. If they had wanted, we would be captured by now." She said while taking the glasses from his hand and placing them on his face carefully. "_Oculus reparo."_ Her wand pointed towards the glasses but her thoughts were considering all the things that could have gone wrong. Harry sighed and offered her a weak smile. "I think that our definition of _luck _needs to change if being being attacked in the middle of the forest by _only two Dead Eaters _counts as being lucky." It was a small attempt at lightening the situation, but it only managed to make it even more serious. If they were not prepared to face a couple of Death Eaters, they had little chance to face them all. An ominous silence settled between them. His eyes wandered through her face, and she looked at them. She could see the different hues of green that, at times, got near to a deep shade of blue. Hermione frowned, an idea forming in her head. "Or maybe we need to stop relying on luck." Harry looked away, red gracing his pale face. He could feel the claws of his regret for dragging her into the Department of Mysteries still clutching his heart.

"You are right, as always." He said with a tight jaw, and turning away from her to look around at the almost empty room. "We should set the wards. We don't know if somebody is watching this place. I highly doubt it, but we should stay vigilant." He said casting into the air his wards. "We should limit the protections to the living room and the kitchen, otherwise it will call the attention of magic folk to this house. Skip the anti-muggle guards, it would be odd if the neighbors were suddenly unable to spy through the lawn. We will block the windows so no one can see inside." Harry said while obviously avoiding explaining where they were.

There was no need to say it, she recognized it from the time the Order had come to pick him up… the night Moody had died. This was the former Dursley's home. Private Drive, number 4. She looked around still, trying to imagine what Harry's life had been here. He often complained about his relatives and having to go back to this place but he was very careful to avoid specifics about his life with the Dursleys. She always suspected that they starved him, because he always came back to Hogwarts missing too pounds to be healthy. Now, being here for more than a few minutes and unpreoccupied with an immediate threat to their lives, she realized how little she knew of Harry's muggle life. Perhaps she would try to talk to him about later, when he wasn't sulking.

The naked walls were not much of a clue about what had happened to little Harry Potter. Oddly enough now that all the stuffy furniture and the pictures were gone, it seemed far more homely then when she had been here. She could actually imagine a somewhat happy Harry growing up in this walls, if only the Dursleys had stayed out of the picture. As she placed the last charm over the living room area, she allowed a sigh to escape her lips. Harry was right, neither had shared much of their lives even if they had lived through deadly situations. She could have let him into her life more. They could have done muggle things during the summer, anything to get him away from this place. She looked around once more and frowned, displeased with herself. At least, she could have given him her phone number in case he needed help and was unable to send an owl.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Harry moving things around in the kitchen. He had finished warding the place. Hurriedly she started to place her own wards. "Hermione? Do you want breakfast? I think there is enough food in my supplies for both of us." She placed a silencing charm around the living room, as an afterthought, and joined Harry in the kitchen. Inside, the young wizard was already improvising something so they could eat. Hermione couldn't help but notice that he wasn't using magic to cook. "When did you learn to cook like that?" She said, amazed at what he was able to do with so little. "Wait...Why haven't you taken care of the cooking until now?" He turned to look at a slightly irritated Hermione while waiting for their eggs to cook and answered her in a sheepish tone. "Oh, I… My aunt taught me so that it would make my chores easier here before I went to Hogwarts. I never got to use the spells...and you are better at them." She was still not satisfied. One of eyebrows rose, so he continued. "Before Hogwarts, I cooked almost every meal here. I like other people's food. I like your food." The eggs were ready. The witch's face softened a little and he didn't like the pity in her expression. Harry turned to serve the breakfast in their camping plates.

"It is a bit dark in here, isn't it?" She said, changing the subject. Harry allowed it, not ready to start a conversation about his life at the Dursley's home. She got busy casting some Bluebell Flames and avoided his gaze. This would have been a nice breakfast between friends, had the circumstances been different. He used Aguamenti and a heating charm to make some tea, there was only one tea bag left so he placed it in her cup.

She noticed that the Dursleys had left behind the small table and a set of chairs they would be taking breakfast in. As if sensing the question forming in her mind Harry said in a conversational tone "My aunt always wanted a "proper dinner table" instead of this small one. Now that they moved to a larger place, there was no need to bring this one." Silence once more. It couldn't be helped because it seemed as if she was talking with Harry for the first time...as if he were a stranger. However, she liked this Harry too because she could picture him in a kitchen just like this one, preparing breakfast for a couple of boys that looked just like he did when he was a child. She could picture a carefree Harry, and yet there was something that bothered her. He seemed to be trying too hard.

He placed a warm cup of black tea in front of her, and she smiled at him briefly. She noticed that his cup only held boiled water, but didn't comment on it. From her beaded bag she summoned the magic radio and tuned it to the Wireless. A melancholic song sounded on the background and, for the first time in months, everything seemed normal; as normal as things could be with one of her best friends missing and a magical war surrounding them. She took one bite of her breakfast, determined to enjoy the moment. It was delicious. Harry observed her carefully, waiting for her approval. Hermione looked once more at Harry as he chewed slowly on a piece of bread and smiled sincerely. "Thank you."

"It is not much, we will need more food." He told her while scratching the back of his neck, unsure if this was a topic that would start a fight once more. She had been taking care of the cooking for as long as they had been on the run, and he felt as if he needed to take the weight off her shoulders for a little while. Ron had not been satisfied with her cooking, and it had hurt her pride when he refused to eat. Harry appreciated her effort, food shouldn't be turned down at times like this just because it didn't suit your taste. If there was something he had learned while living with the Dursleys, it had been the difference a good meal could make in your day, even if it was a bit bland.

"We could look for something in a muggle store. I know you are against stealing but ...we need to eat." He suggested with little conviction. He knew that she would refuse because this was Hermione Granger. She would rather sell her _Hogwarts: A History,_ than use her magic to steal so blatantly from muggles. As if to confirm his assumption, she narrowed her eyes at him while slowly cutting a small piece of tomato before placing it in her mouth. She was clearly thinking about a plan, and Harry knew he might not like it by the hesitance written all over her face. They wouldn't be able to live like this for much longer. He could feel himself getting tired of running around with no results and Hermione looked no much better. His nightmares were getting worse and he feared that Voldemort might be able to overcome him if he allowed himself to be weak. Being frustrated and hungry, was not a good condition to be in if his mind were attacked by the evil wizard, and he was both hungry and frustrated. Their situation made him unstable, distracted, and an easy target for their enemies.

Hermione did not notice the shift in Harry's mood. The young witch's mind was searching desperately for something that could bring them some relief. They would have to move, and soon, but they wouldn't be able to if they couldn't get supplies first. Food was the easy part compared to the potions they needed in case of a medical emergency. They needed another tent too. Stealing was out of the question, because it would make them too noticeable or maybe even alert muggle authorities. The magic tent and expensive ingredients for potions, would be almost impossible to obtain if not bought from specialized magical stores; and that got her back to their main problems: staying hidden and having no supplies or money to buy them. The young witch sighed. Harry interrupted her thoughts by taking her hand on the table for a moment before letting go with a determined expression. She looked back at him and noticed how much smaller his breakfast was compared to hers. He didn't complain though, and it made her heart ache.


	3. Chapter 3: Messenger

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, and everything attached to the franchise, belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros, and whoever else she sold the rights to. This is just for the fandom to keep it alive in our hearts and imaginations.

**Note:** Thank you all for your comments and kind words. I will write more regularly because I feel like this story is becoming too large to write as sporadicly as I have until now. This is a different kind of chapter, in all honesty I wrote it because it gave me time about what to do with Harry and Hermione. Should they stay friends? I want to write something that is satisfactory to you (and me) and that doesn't come out of nowhere. Let me know what you think. Also, remember I have no beta so it would be great if you pointed out how to improve my writing.

**Chapter 3: Messenger**

In a different breakfast table, a bigger one, the Dudley family took an early breakfast. The fat fingers of Vernon Dursley held the paper with an air of importance. His mustache moved from one side of his face to the other while he read with disapproval one of the unusual news that had lately appeared on every media. Some days people, entire families, disappeared without a trace, other days an unknown body would appear in a public park or a dark alley. "This must be what _that people _were so afraid of. Savages, the lot of them. We should be thankful that we finally got rid of the freak, otherwise we would have been involved with those criminals." He commented with self satisfaction. Petunia Dursley, his contrastingly skinny wife, ignored his rant by looking at her home decor magazine. It wasn't uncommon for him to make this kind of comments since they had moved to the new house. To a certain point, she agreed. It had been selfish of that old fool Dumbledore to leave the Potter boy with them. Magic only brought trouble and calamity, and she had had enough of that in her lifetime.

There was one person on the table who seemed to disagree with Vernon's affirmation, but his opinion was of little importance to the proud man. Duddley Dursley had changed, not only because he had lost a few pounds against his will under a strict diet, but because he had grown quiet. His parents rarely got to listen (not that they asked often) about how he was adjusting to his new school or about his latest interest, he rarely spoke. At first, he had been difficult and complained all the time about the changes to his previously comfortable life at Little Whining, but with time he had recluded into a morose silence. Today however, he was feeling on edge because he had an appointment with the dietitian. "They are not criminals, they are just magical people." He said in a low but firm voice, barely containing his irritation.

Vernon closed his newspaper and looked at his son with incredulity. "We do not speak that word in this house. There is no such thing as magic." His face was slightly red and his already inflated belly seemed to grow as he leaned onto him. "I have been compleasant with you because you've had a hard time adapting to our new life but I will not tolerate you using that...that word." Vernon said in a firm tone he rarely used with Dudley. Lately, their relationship had been strained. Petunia looked at her husband and son, trying to diffuse the tension between them by sniffing a little but both of them ignored her. "That is what they are! Magical people! And we owe them our lives and this fancy house, as well as your sodding job. We wouldn't have any of this if it wasn't for Harry." He had slammed his hand on the table and knocked his teacup, spilling the tea. "When are we going to talk about this?! You treat me as if I were made of crystal and force me to go around like a dancing monkey entertaining your stupid friends as if nothing ever happened. I almost died!" His white knuckles were just as ready as they had been before the beginning of every fight in his old school. With his cousin gone, his parents had turned their attention to him even more so than before. They had become controlling, and he felt a little bit of sympathy for Harry for being the recipient of his parent's destructive obsessions. He was done with pretending everything was "normal".

Petunia snapped out of the shock of listening to her Duddinkins speak in such a way to them. This had never happened. She had developed a strange feeling that something like this would come since they had gotten rid of the boy and her son had somewhat made peace with him. She even wondered if this had anything to do with magic, because who knew if having Duddley's life saved by that people would have any effect on him. "Oh my poor boy! The trauma must have gotten in his nerves. Hush, hush my baby everything is alright now. We are happy and safe now. Go on Duddley finish your breakfast and get ready for your appointment." The overly dramatic tone seemed to snap everything into place. Duddley and Vernon huffed in a similar way and resumed their breakfast by stabbing the food. Petunia offered a tight smile to her husband and finished her tea.

Without a word, Duddley left the breakfast table and went to his room. As he entered the spacious room and his eyes fell on every expensive item that he had always wanted, nausea settled in his gut. He had everything he ever desired and he had to thank a skinny weird boy who he had bullied for most of his life. And yet, he resented him because none of this would have happened if he had never appeared in their lives. Then again, he couldn't blame Harry because he didn't want to live with them in the first place. He shut his door.

To say he had conflicting feelings was an understatement. However, the one that he could clearly name was guilt. Not because of all the nasty things he had done to his cousin as his personal bully but because of something he kept. He was the thief of a letter that might have changed everything for Harry, had the young wizard received it. In a strike of jealousy Duddley had taken it for himself when picking up the mail, and made sure that nobody knew about it. He had seen what a letter could do to the fate of a person and his younger self had decided that Harry Potter had had enough letters to last him a lifetime. Now, everything seemed so...meaningless.

Holding his breath, feeling as if he was being watched, he carefully retrieved the letter from his drawer and read the golden letters on the envelope.

_Mr. H. J. Potter_

_The Smallest Bedroom_

_4 Privet Drive _

_Little Whinging_

_Surrey_

On the right upper corner a very big quote of arms with the inscription GRINGOTTS BANK marked it as a very important letter. The authority the seal irradiated still gave Dudley waves of apprehension. A small folded note, that had arrived with the letter, had been attached carefully with tape to the envelope. It read:

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, _

_As you are probably aware, the one Harry Potter's godfather has passed, leaving you as the only private recipients for this legal summoning intended for the underaged Potter heir. It is unusual for non-magical folk to be needed for this sort of situations, we would normally wait for the child to come of age. However, these matters cannot be delayed. It is of great importance that Mr. Potter receives this letter from either of you, it will activate the portkey that leads directly to my office. Please understand that under the current circumstances I might not be able to send another missive, so it is imperative that this letter finds the young Potter safely. I thank you for your cooperation in advance. _

_Yours sincerely, _

_Hioriags, Son of Stros_

_Account Manager of the Potter Family_

He had never been able to open the letter but he always tried, intrigued by the obviously important information it contained. It was likely that he would never see Harry again, and yet he kept it because it made him feel less guilty to imagine that someday he might give it back. He also liked to fantasize, that it would open for him.

The sound of his mother's heels interrupted his thoughts. Dudley hurried to fold the wrinkled parchment and shoved it into his pocket. "Duddinskins! Are you ready? Don't forget to get a jacket, love." She opened his door without knocking and announced that it was time to leave for his appointment. He felt annoyed at the use of his childhood endearment. "I don't want to go. I hate it." He said firmly. His mother contorted her face in an almost-crying smile. "But Duddinskins, you are doing so well. Soon, every girl will see how handsome you can be. You might even get a girlfriend." Dudley knew she meant well, but underneath all of it both of his parents wanted him to fit in with their ideal life and he didn't like that. They wanted him to be like the snobbish people that went to his school and the children of their new posh friends. They spoke of things he didn't care about, and made fun of him for the most ridiculous things. He wasn't allowed to choose his own clothes or talk to his old friends in Smeltings. He had to "act accordingly to their status" his father repeated time and time again when he acted like before. He couldn't even eat what he pleased now. Dudley had never wanted any of this, although he wasn't complaining about the perks his new lifestyle brought.

His mother was still waiting by his door and he knew that this was not a fight he would win, so he took his light coat and followed her. "Fine, I'm coming." His father was already waiting for them in the car, and threw him a warning look before starting it. He would take them to the dietitian's office and then they would go shopping for a while before meeting him once more for lunch with his colleagues. He would not accept any other mention of magic today.

He tuned out his parent's voices, and looked out the window. When they got to a light, he noticed a strange man looking at him from the sidewalk. He looked just like some of Harry's visitors did. Long black robes that flowed with the wind and an antique atmosphere that hung around him gave him away. Not that he was trying to avoid being seen. He stood like a statue, waiting for something to happen.

Dudley didn't get enough time to point out the strange man to his parents because the light changed. The car accelerated and, in the blink of an eye, they were hit by something neither him or his father could see. The car was crushed by the impact. Time froze for Dudley, his eyes connecting with the stranger's gaze. A mocking smirk split the disturbingly pale face before the only Dursley left alive felt a sharp pain piercing his chest. Blood bathed him and his heart beat became extremely loud. Breathing was so painful, that he stopped. Without closing his eyes, everything went black.

The Dursley couple died that day and their only son went missing. People who knew them would only remember the odd way in which they left this world, despite all of their efforts to be normal.


	4. Chapter 4: Memories under the Stairs

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter, and everything attached to the franchise, belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros, and whoever else she sold the rights to. This is just for the fandom to keep it alive in our hearts and imaginations.

**Note: **It took me some research to write this chapter because I wanted to make it... not weird. I am sorry if this is not as fluffy as it could be but I felt like it was important to write this to understand the wounds they are dealing with. A moment of vulnerability, was needed. Let me know what you think of it, and as always comments are welcome.

**Chapter 4: Memories under the Stairs**

**..**

Harry had spent most of the day avoiding Hermione's vigilant gaze as they searched around the house for things that could be useful. While she looked in Duddley's bedroom he had quietly emptied the cupboard under the stairs. It was so small that his head had collided with the ceiling and his hair combed the spiderwebs there.

In the time he had not lived in Private Drive, his aunt had used it as a storage room that only she was allowed to open. His trunk and other magical possessions were also stored here during the summers. Only then did Petunia give the key to Vernon, so that he could control Harry. It didn't seem likely to Harry that his aunt would squirrel away food or prized possessions in his- the cupboard, but it wouldn't hurt to look around.

The cot he had slept on was no longer there and the shelves were full of broken house appliances, an old radio, kettles and empty tin cookie boxes that aunt Marge had gifted them for Christmas. There were a few bags of Duddley's old clothing and never-read books that had been in the smallest bedroom before Harry moved there. Below all the dusty forgotten things there was a small and beaten box labeled with the clear letters "for Harry".

With trembling hands, Harry opened the box and it gave him the impression that its contents had been preserved with a stasis charm because the inside of the box looked new. The first thing he saw was a beautiful silk wedding dress. It was delicate and the pearls that served as buttons sparkled with the dim yellow light of the cupboard. For a moment he pictured a redhead wearing this dress with a big smile behind a veil. Something inside him stirred and felt strange when he remembered that Ginny was a redhead too. Very carefully he extracted the dress and a picture fell from it's skirt. He picked it up and a blushing Lily Potter smiled at him from a muggle photograph. She was wearing the dress, flowers in her hair and the gleeful eyes that he had pictured. His fingers touched her soft looking face, trying to feel some warmth.

Behind the photo, in neat rounded letters someone had written a message:

_Dad,_

_I learned to believe in magic and myself from you. Thank you for loving me, for showing me how to be brave when all seems lost. I will always love you._

_Your daughter,_

_Lily Evans (now Potter)_

Harry captured a sob in his throat and his adam's apple bobbed trying to swallow it. His face morphed between anger and pain before settling for sadness. There was so little that he knew about his family that he had never wondered what had happened to his grandparents. Had they died before he was born? Had Petunia hidden him from them too? Harry did not think that it was beyond the Dursleys to hide a magical baby from the world for as long as they could.

Very carefully, he placed the wedding dress on a chair and the photograph over the delicate fabric. A velvet jewelry box called his attention. A set of earrings, like those that Ginny spent hours admiring in magazines before Bill's wedding, laid inside. A flower, exactly like the ones from the photograph, stole all of his attention with it's beauty and richness. It was made of gemstones, but it had been charmed to look more organic. Harry knew nothing about jewelry but he could tell that these were expensive. Now he was sure that aunt Petunia had not opened the box, ever, or she would have stolen this years ago. He wondered if a spell had been cast upon it to keep her away.

An small diary, a book titled "The little prince" and a crochet stuffed fox were the remaining items. He was about to inspect the diary when Hermione called from up the stairs.

"Harry! I think there is something here."

Her voice was colored with excitement but Harry couldn't bring himself to share her optimism. With a light smile, he looked back at the treasure he had found and went up the stairs. The sight that greeted him inside his cousin's bedroom brought him back to his current situation. The posters of famous boxers and scarcely dressed women were not on the walls. The bed remained bare, because the mattress had been removed and stacked against the wall with the chair. Hermione was on her knees surrounded by all kinds of snacks, candies and chocolates. She had removed a loose board on the floor. In her hands, a considerable amount of pound notes were displayed as a fan. She looked triumphant and he couldn't help but give her a sincere smile.

"That is brilliant Hermione! Duddley must have forgotten about it in one of my uncle's fit before they left. He couldn't decide if I was telling the truth about a mad man wanting me dead. Vernon Dursley was convinced I wanted to keep their house for myself." He explained still feeling incredulous at his uncle's reasoning.

She frowned at Harry's nonchalant tone but nibbled her lip to stop herself from commenting on it. Harry could tell that she was not pleased with something he said. A sigh escaped his lips and he leveled his eyes with hers by sitting beside her.

"Hermione, if I got upset about every little thing that my uncle said over the years I would be in St. Mungus trying to find my sanity. I am crazy enough as it, with a devil man in my head and all." He was trying to be sincere, but she didn't look convinced. "I'm fine, honest." That phrase closed the discussion.

Had they been in Hogwarts in one of their morning conversations while Ron inhaled his breakfast, she would have hidden behind whatever book she happened to be reading. She wouldn't admit it to Harry, but every time he said those words she felt as if her friendship and feelings were thrown in her face. She was trying to be a good friend, and it was humiliating to be so sharply rejected. With nothing else to do, she began gathering the food.

"I found something too and I think you will like it." He said, trying to amend whatever misstep he had taken with Hermione. Harry was coming to realize that there were many things that he didn't know about her, and it made him feel uneasy. She was much more complicated and bruised than he had seen before. How is it that she had ended up beside someone like him? Oh right, Ron made her cry and Harry couldn't leave her alone for the troll to find.

"We should go back downstairs, to the wards." He said, suddenly very aware were the limit of their spells was. She left the room with her arms full of snacks not even looking back at him. He sighed once more and looked around the room. He decided that he would take the mattress downstairs so that they could sleep the night in the living room.

When he settle the mattress, Hermione had already classified and rationed the snacks. In an unexpected feminine gesture, she was admiring his mother's dress. Harry wondered if she was imagining herself wearing it as he had seen girls do in Madame Malkins. In her hand she carefully held the photograph as if it had just been printed.

"It was my mother's. I think that my grandparents saved this for me. I can't imagine aunt Petunia doing it. She hated her, and me." He came closer to her and took the photograph from her, holding it beside his face. "Everyone is right, we do have the same eyes."

Hermione looked at him, and her eyes flickered to Lili's frozen face. "She is beautiful Harry, but I like yours better." He gave her the ghost of a smile and something snapped in her. Overwhelmed with sentiment, Hermione hugged him while mumbling something about him and Ron. Harry froze but slowly held her too. She managed to croak out a familiar phrase, "I'm sorry Harry."

A foreboding feeling washed over him when her behavior suddenly matched with a memory. She had done something behind his back, just like when she had gone to Professor McGonagall to tell about his broom. "What did you do Hermione?" He asked holding her now at his arm's length.

"We need to go to Godric's Hollow Harry. Remus must have left a way for us to contact him. It's not a trap, I've checked." She had separated from him, avoiding his eyes and crossing her arms, holding herself for comfort.

"You've checked? How could you…" His brain connected the dots for him. He had spent a long while alone in the living room. She had made no sound in all that time. The sun was almost completely hidden now and Duddley's bedroom was so empty that it shouldn't have taken her that long to find the snacks and notes. Besides, his wards only covered the first floor. He wouldn't have noticed had she left.

"You went without me?" His tone was accusing and hurt. "What happened to 'We must be careful Harry' and all of your insistence on staying away from it? You've been so sodding stubborn and suddenly you go on your own?" He wasn't quite sure if he was angry at her for leaving him out of an important and personal experience for him, or because she had put herself in danger and had not trusted him to support her. "What if you had been captured? What if it had really been a trap like you thought it was? What if I couldn't find you in time? Did you think about that Hermione?! What about me? You knew I wanted to go." He was now pacing, not knowing what to do with himself. He didn't want his anger to get him again, not being as hungry as he was and with his magic exuding from his skin. Harry could feel _him_ behind his feeble occlumency barrier. He abruptly stopped and folded himself into his knees, feeling like retching. His palm pushed onto his scar, trying to soothe the pain.

Hermione was trembling, angry and frustrated again. She was just trying to keep them safe. "I'm sorry Harry. We didn't have many other options and we would have been more noticeable together. I was very careful and managed to not call the attention of the locals. Besides, I took the invisibility cloak with me. I had to make sure before letting you go there. Nothing happened. I'm alright, you're alright."

Her reasons for doing it, while logical, didn't hold up to her either but she was too stubborn to admit it to Harry.

"Please don't be mad." She was standing just like a child being scolded would. Her shoulders hunched in shame, it didn't suit her. She wasn't acting like the brave young woman who had stood beside him, but rather like the toothy know-it-all girl who had no friends or self-esteem. "I did it for a good reason." She insisted.

Harry was getting tired of being pushed around, of being kept in the dark while others took decisions for him. He knew Hermione meant well, but it didn't make him feel any better. He was just so angry at people controlling his fate. He took a deep breath to calm himself. "What would be a good reason to leave me and put yourself in such danger? Tell me Hermione, because I can't find one that would make you act so rashly." He snatched off his glasses and pushed the heels of his palms to his eyes. His head felt like it was splitting from the inside and there were voices reminding him of every time she had denied him a visit to his parent's house. "You _KNEW_ how much this meant to me." He growled.

"I will tell you, but first take off the locket." Hermione said in a trembling voice, finally noticing the dark long shadows that surrounded her like snakes. There was something wrong with Harry's magic. "Take it off Harry. Take it off, please. Stop it! You're scaring me!"

Hesitantly, Harry's fingers searched for the locket inside his old shirt. It was burning him, fighting him to remain on his neck. Suddenly, the flashing image of pearly white teeth smiling behind a bride's veil reminded him that he still had a mission to accomplish. He was not going to let an ugly piece of jewelry waste all of his family's sacrifices. In a spurt of strength he managed to free himself of the locket and threw it across the room.

The shadows disappeared as if they had never been there. Harry's shoulders heaved as he panted on the floor. His head still hurt, but the pain was somehow duller than before. He picked up his glasses and looked at Hermione. She was still at the same spot when the discussion had begun. A look of concern was clearly written on her face, but she was also scared… for him or of him, he didn't know. A part of him thought that this might be a good thing, now she knew what she was attaching herself to. The other part was horrified at what he had done, at how he had lost control.

"They've got Ron." She whispered after Harry wasn't able to look at her in the eyes, choosing instead to focus on her hands. "That is how those Death Eaters found us, I heard them say it before rushing to the tent. I didn't want to tell you because you've been so… tense and anxious that I thought you might do something stupid."

"Might as well do it yourself instead of me?" for Ron? He surprised himself thinking. The sarcastic tone in his voice didn't help their already fragile understanding of each other. Hermione physically responded by taking a step away from him, a frown hardening her usually open expression. "No, I'm sorry. That was unfair, I'm sorry."

He didn't know what to say anymore. Their situation was already dire but now this thing about Ron overwhelmed him. He was still feeling bitter at the way Ron left and sad because his friend had turned his back on them, but he didn't wish for him to be captured. They must be torturing him for information, or worse. He could already be dead. Ron could be a moron and a git, but Harry was determined so do whatever he could to save him. He wouldn't fail this time.

That thought made him snap, his learned response to deadly situations kicking in. With wand on hand he started summoning things that might be useful and packed once more his trunk. He started for the stairs to retrieve something from his former bedroom when the panicked voice of Hermione stopped him.

"You promised."

She had not moved an inch, as if her body had locked her there. Her breath was short and her face was blotchy red. All of her body was shaking. A tear escaped her wide eyes before she shut them painfully hard and braced herself. "You promised."

"Hermione?" Harry was very confused at what was happening. He had never seen her like this before. Suddenly Harry remember that just last night he had threatened with abandoning her. She had been the complete opposite then, and Harry felt like the crumbling of Hermione's resolution was his fault. A rush of shame and inadequacy hit him, making him think that he was probably not a very good friend. His episode of almost letting himself be possessed by Voldemort had certainly not made things better for them.

Her face was completely red now, and tears were falling down her face. Not knowing what else to do, he approached her and seized her tense hands. Her nails had digged moons into her skin. When she didn't recoil or tried to get away from him, very carefully he coaxed her into a hug. He waited for her to settle herself in his arms while his hands, awkwardly at first, tried to comfort her with small pats on her back.

"I can't breathe, Harry. I'm dying." She said after a brief moment of struggling to get air into her lungs. She felt as if she was losing control, everything was spinning but she couldn't see because her eyes couldn't focus. Her palms were tingly and everything felt too hot. "I think I'm dying Harry." She repeated desperately.

"You can breathe Hermione. I'm here, try to match my breathing." He made his best effort to remain calm and even his breathing rhythm. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. He noticed that her heart was drumming against his chest. It ran fast, just like that of a scared rabbit. For a moment, he was afraid that she was really dying and something was wrong with her heart but quickly decided that getting her to calm down was the first thing that he should do. It wouldn't do if both of them were scared.

"I can't!" She repeated while holding onto him as if her life depended on him. "Please, don't hate me." All of her fears of rejection were rushing through her mind. They were telling him that Harry must be disgusted by her crying face, he probably blamed her for allowing Ron to leave. Who was she really? She couldn't even help him to keep Voldemort away from his mind. He probably hates me because I am not as pretty or loving as other girls. I'm always bossy but it never helps. He hates me. He hates me, that is why he will leave. I'm alone and nobody will ever love me. That is why I'll never be really friends with anyone. Everyone hates me. Everybody is disgusted with me. I'm mud, a mudblood. I should run, hide, so that he doesn't have to see my face. My parents rejected me too. I don't want this, I should die. I want to die. I-

"Breathe with me Hermione. Stay with me. You're safe, I'm here. I won't leave you. Breathe and everything will be alright after this has passed." He repeated it over and over while slightly rocking her. Internally, he wasn't sure of his words because nothing was "alright" in their lives. Still, he made an effort not to let it show in his voice. She tensed for a moment, as if preparing to flee but he held on to her. "You're safe, I'm here. All you need to do is wait and everything will be better, you will be so proud of yourself for not running. You're a brave Griffindor."

They remained like that for what felt like an eternity. By the time she started breathing better, Harry had run out of things to say and had resorted to talking to her about the corrections that Snape had made to the Advanced Potion's textbook and how he had started to read further about them. It turned out that normal murtlap essence was not the best potion to use for cuts caused by blood quills. You needed to add honeywater to get better results, as the quill poisoned the skin for it to break down easily before cutting it. Occasionally she would make correction on his brewing instructions and he would remind her to breathe.

Suddenly she took a deep breath and Harry felt relief at the realization that he had done the right thing. Hermione hid her face on his shirt, her wild hair protecting her from the embarrassment of looking at him… but she was alright. He felt embarrassed too, and more than a little guilty. He was sure that he had caused this, somehow he had made her feel this scared. She had told him to stop his magic from losing control, but he had been so angry that he wouldn't listen.

Quietly, Harry decided that they had done enough for today. He still felt anxious over Ron, but… Hermione needed him too. And if he was going to rescue Ron, he needed Hermione. They would rest for a while and then they would face their duties and consequences.

"Wait a little longer Ron. Don't lose your head. Stay alive, you git." He said to the air, as he guided Hermione to his bedroom and bed. It was mostly as he had left it a lifetime ago, since his relatives had abandoned the house. It was smaller than Duddley's, but he needed something familiar, somewhere safe.

Hermione, still ashamed of what had happened, didn't protest when Harry tucked her in the slightly magically enlarged bed. She tried to remain still, considering pretending to be asleep, so that when Harry finished warding the room she wouldn't have to face him. Before she could make up her mind, his weight shifted the bed and his eyes met hers.

He didn't say anything, but he took her hand and held it to his chest. His heart was steady.

They fell asleep like that.


End file.
